Walks
by UWKthe002
Summary: What would you do if you were to walk by them...? New: Chapter 3: Dreamless Sleep, Drunken Stupor...Read if you like.
1. Preface

~~*Author's Note: I suppose some of you will think this is a stupid story, but...You know  
what? I don't really care.  
Aside from that, the characters aside from me that are in the story now and *MIGHT* be  
later do not belong to me - they belong to the Slayers' creators - Dang. *~~  
  
-Timeline: AU, I suppose. Set in our world.  
R&R if you like...-  
  
~#&#~  
  
I was walking down the street one day, and coming up on the other side of the road   
was a man. Not a normal man, mind you. A tall man, with a trenchcoat of vermillion, slacks   
of brown, and wingtips of black. Across his back was strung a sword that was longer than I   
was tall. Not only that, he had flaming red hair down to the back of his knees, held in a   
small ponytail around his lower back.   
  
Oh. And he was around 8 foot.   
  
Anyway, as I said, he was walking up the other side of the street, hands stuffed   
inside of his pockets, head down, large red brows furrowed in frustrated concentration.   
It seemed that, even though the sky was devoid of any clouds, that a small black storm one   
was following him around, and at random times, would flash a spot of lightning.   
  
Now, the usual person would either have ran screaming from the scene, or maybe, if  
they were brave, they would have just stopped and stared. However, I was neither.   
  
I was an anime fan.   
  
And that made all the difference.   
  
Perhaps.   
  
So we continued on our way; he coming towards me, and I coming towards him. Finally,  
we met.   
  
Sortof.   
  
As we hit the exact middle of our crosswalks, we stopped. Not looking at each other,  
we acknowledge each other's presence. Not anything elaborate, just a slight change in facial   
expression; him, brows furrowing farther; me, a slight twitch in the left eye. As I said,   
nothing much.   
  
It was only a few seconds before the first words were spoken:   
"Birds of a feather flock together."   
  
Suprisingly soft, for someone of his stature. Not quite a true baritone, but not   
high enough for tenor. It resonated in his large chest before coming out of his mouth,   
giving even the simplest words an almost frightening strength.   
  
"And where do these birds flock, pre tell?"   
  
A considerable contrast. My voice was only on the verge of masculine; there was   
still a very true feminine ring. Soft, almost like a wind. Too high for a tenor, but almost   
too low for an alto. Words were made short and crisp, yet they flowed together, nearly   
unintelligible.   
  
He looked up then, large blue eyes turned to the pale sky; the sun overhead burned   
with the same intensity that it had for the past day; and the day before that; and the day   
before that, and so on. "Nothing new beneath the sun," I believe is how the song goes.   
Quite true.   
  
I smiled, and hung my head, in quite the same fasion as he himself had done, not 1   
minute earlier. Jaw-length blonde bangs fell in front of large-pupiled blue eyes, which   
seemed to be, themselves, smiling.   
  
And we walked on   
  
my demon and I.  
  
~#&#~  
  
**~After Note: I think...I..might...continue it...What do you think?~** 


	2. Rainy Days

~~*Author's Note: Again, the characters arin't mine. Except me.*~~  
  
//Timeline: Somewhere in the area of 3-4 days after my "first encounter"  
R&R!\\  
  
~#%#~  
  
The rain was hard - not the kind of rain that can be nice to a person, like the soft summer  
rains, or the drizzle on a foggy autumn evening. It was one of those rains that persons of   
any sense would avoid at all costs. A rain that was cold, and full of sorrow.  
Because, when it rains like that - well...  
  
Strange things happen.  
  
I liked to walk then.   
  
We weren't anywhere near each other, the small boy and I - we could never have been farther   
apart, in fact. Somewhere, in a time and space where all that matters in the world is the   
continuing of one's path, chosen from the beginning of our very existence to the end; set   
for THIS day, THIS time. We were both on our separate paths -  
  
Except that sometimes, paths cross.  
  
Our's did.  
  
He was small, even for a child. Small arms wrapped around small legs; small hands clenching  
small calves. Small head resting on small knees. Small head rested on small knees. Small as   
small as small is small; or something like that. But then again, there were contrasts. His   
hair wasn't small - it was long. Long, and beautiful; bluer than a midnight sky in the   
cosmos. Large were his clothes, though they were plastered to his small frame. Large shoes   
on small feet.  
  
Large sobs with large tears from large eyes streaming down small cheeks.  
He sat, silhouetted by a single lamplight overhead, which had cast shadows in the dim   
evening light. His entire form had been wet from overexposure to the elements.  
  
But I didn't notice.  
  
I had walked on, even though my hair had been dripping; even though my jeans were rubbing   
the skin of my legs raw; even though my shirt was sticking to my thin form; even though my   
innermost garments were just as wet as if I'd run them through the washer. My hair had been   
hanging in clumps of dark blonde, dripping more water into my mouth. My feet, even in their   
shoes of black leather and once white socks, then brown from the muddy waters of the street   
and sidewalk, were colder than blocks of ice. Even my hands, stuffed into the pocket of my   
black sweater, were hard to feel on that day.  
  
But I kept walking.  
  
It finally came that our paths crossed - again, like the time before, he on one side,   
myself on the other. Yet this time, it wasn't in mutual understanding that we met -   
  
It was in desperation.  
  
I had stopped, head down, eyes closed, ears intent upon the sounds of his pitiful sobs.   
Sobs that meant an inner torture more horrendous than most any could have imagined.  
  
I thought it was quite musical.  
  
I had slowly lifted my head, locks that had been "guarding" my eyes clutching to the skin   
of my cheeks, and opened my eyes to the sound that I found so entertaining.  
  
He looked up then, too - his eyes had been pleading, looking for a comfort that no mortal   
could ever possibly give unto one such as him.  
  
It had all happened so fast after that.  
  
A rising of a small arm; a quick, high-pitched cry, unintelligible; a small clink of   
bracelets.  
  
A blink.  
  
And then he had been gone  
  
this small master of Hell.  
  
~#%#~  
  
~**After Note: Well, what do you think? Who's gonna be next?! Could be up to you! E-mail   
me with your ideas on who would be the best next candidate! Be sure to add little details,  
like what you think they look like...JA for now; it's DEE-NER TIME!**~ 


	3. Dreamless Sleep, Drunken Stupor

~~*Author's note: Again, none of them are mine. I wish, with all my heart, of course, that for some odd reason, I'm the sole-  
owner of them in some will of a long lost....::Ahem:: Anyway, they're not mine. If you think it sucks, please keep your   
comments to youself. I wrote it at 2:30 AM. So it's bound to have problems.  
I'm rambling. Good bye.*~~  
  
//Timeline: Somewhere within a week of the last one...still AU...never gonna change that..\\  
  
~#$#~  
  
I keep wondering what would have happened if even just one, tiny, microscopic thing had been altered in some way that day.   
Would it have turned out the same? Things like that always cross my mind.  
  
I just happened to be thinking like that when I first caught sight of her.  
  
She didn't seem like anything special - just another scantly clad woman for the ages. Long blonde hair, legs any woman in   
their right mind - and even some men - would die for, a rack you could lose yourself in, and the body of a model fresh off   
the line.   
  
She also happened to be sporting a rather empty bottle of Wild Turkey and a half-empty pack of cigarettes.  
  
I didn't pay much attention, being caught up in my own morose thoughts at the time; just a quick glance in her direction as   
she stumbled away from the liquor store. I kept on walking, not even really noticing the young man following her.   
  
Thinking back, I wonder why I'd been able to miss his purple hair, so like a beacon of different-ness it was.  
  
Of course, it didn't really matter then.  
  
We were to meet again.  
  
~*~  
  
It was only 2 days after the first "encounter." Standing in the doorway of the local video store, I was waiting for my ride   
to appear. After an hour, I finally began my long walk home. It wasn't like this hadn't happened before - just another thing   
to ponder as I took to the open sidewalk.   
  
I really don't know what made me look up from the rather rapt contemplation of the blacktop - perhaps it was the chirp of   
the cricket two or three feet away. Perhaps a passing car. Or the sound of the plain overhead.  
  
Anyway, for whatever reason, I looked up.   
  
I should probably mention at this time that the local video store is adjacent to one of the local liquor stores. Or maybe   
you'd already figured that out.   
  
I admit; I ended up stopping and staring at the pair. For some reason, in the back of my head, there was a nagging feeling.   
Like I'd known these two, or seen them before.   
  
It took about 1.3 seconds to figure out why.  
  
She wasn't as drunk this time. In fact, I don't think she was drunk at all. Of course, that wasn't the reason I stared. It   
was the other one, the young man.   
  
This time, his hair did catch my attention.  
  
I was so engrossed in it that I didn't even notice that they had, in return, begun to stare at me. It was only when the man   
turned his head that my concentration was broken. Blushing, I had quickly averted my gaze. Of course, that meant that I   
ended up looking at the woman.  
  
She didn't seem at all disturbed at my behavior - something that I still contemplate at times. All she did was quirk and   
eyebrow, and raise her fresh bottle of Wild Turkey is something akin to a salute. I cocked my head, and out of my peripheral  
vision, caught the man smirking, his purple eyes gleaming.  
  
Suddenly, a car rushed by.   
  
And in that moment, something very fragile broke. Whatever it was that had made this encounter possible was gone forever.   
  
When the car had passed, the woman and the young man were gone.  
  
I still wonder whether I'll ever see them again,  
  
the master of Beasts and her Tricky companion.  
  
*~~Afternote: Of course, I own myself..or I think I do...~~* 


End file.
